


Used To Running (Looking Down)

by blanchtt



Series: 500X LEDA [15]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Canon Timeline, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 23:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: MK may have her face, her anger. But she is not her, and this does not help her or Alison or Cosima or Helena, and Sarah feels that old recklessness rise up, irrepressible.





	Used To Running (Looking Down)

**Author's Note:**

> Rare-pair minific prompt: Veera/Sarah, gasoline.

 

 

 

 

 

What good is it, she wonders, to finally meet family, only to have them taken away?

 

 

-

 

 

MK may have her face, her anger. But she is not her, and this does not help her or Alison or Cosima or Helena, and Sarah feels that old recklessness rise up, irrepressible.

 

This is _Beth’s_ house. _Paul’s_ house. It is not MK’s to burn down. It is not Ferdinand’s to destroy. It is not hers to enter anymore.

 

“No,” she breathes.

 

She thinks of all of their work, all of their blood and sweat and tears going up in flames, and reaches out, furious, grabs the handle of the plastic gasoline container as MK brushes by her, and watches with vague satisfaction as MK halts suddenly, turns back in confusion as she’s jerked to a stop.

 

It doesn’t take much to wrench the container out of her hand. Heavy, Sarah holds onto it tightly none the less, holds it back just out of MK’s reach.

 

“This doesn’t help us, MK.”

 

It’s easy enough to yank the container out of MK’s hands, to stare her down. It’s harder to find a justification that will make sense to MK, that MK will listen to. And so MK leaves wordlessly, mouth set in an unhappy line and mumbling a cringing, half-assed apology that makes Sarah want to kick something.

 

The door shuts quietly behind her, silence deafening, and Sarah sighs, blocks out Ferdinand’s disgusting sniveling and reaches into her back pocket, pulls out her cell, and calls up S.

 

 

-

 

 

“You don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” Sarah sighs, fingers hooked into the handle of Felix’s door, unwilling to open it further. It may be petty, but she has to get that in, if Veera’s going to join them - and it is Veera now, not MK, she knows. “We’re stronger together.”

 

Veera makes a noncommittal noise – Sarah’s heard it from Cosima before, and it basically means _whatever_ – and then, with a look of surprise, coughs, raises a hand, and of Sarah keeps her mouth shut, even though her lungs burn with the urge to scream _Jesus bloody Christ_.

 

“How long?” Veera asks, shaky, and Sarah feels relief wash over her that she doesn't have to break _that_ news, ignores the redness that still flecks Veera's bottom lip. Not another. No.

 

“It’s alright,” Sarah says loudly, rolling back the door and stepping aside, because S had done that to her, and she’s done it to Kira – the more certain and strongly she’d said something, the more she’d believed in it herself. “You’re going to be alright. Cosima’s found a cure.”

 

 

-

 

 

Veera’s fear is on an entirely new level, and it’s tiresome. Luckily, she feels a hell of a lot less like the mouse the cat’s playing with this time.

 

She tries not to _threaten_ and only to _stress_ that there will be nothing done by Veera to create extra danger here in the loft, because her eight-year-old daughter is here, _god damn it_ , and that seems to get through to her.

 

(Sarah wants to joke, too, darkly, that they can only have one loose cannon at a time, and they’re currently trying to find her. She feels like it might not go over so well, and regrets it as soon as she thinks about Helena).

 

 

-

 

 

She stays at the loft instead of the safe-house one night, shares the bed with Veera, and feels a knot grow in her stomach at the sound of the other woman coughing in the middle of the night, so familiar, yet not.

 

(It scares the fucking shite out of her, because the last time she’d seen Cosima she’d sounded _so much worse_ than Veera does now).

 

She thinks of Kendall and her worries – _what if it’s just Neos tryin’ to flush us out_ – and wonders how many more times she’s going to share a bed with someone who’s going to sell her out. But she’s learned a lot about forgiveness, she’d like to think, and the importance of the here and now. Or at the very least, she’s too damn busy to hold a grudge.

 

Sarah reaches under the bed blindly, gropes, comes up with a tissue box she or Felix or Cosima has stashed there – does it matter who or for what purpose anymore – and rips off the top in the darkness, yanks a handful of tissues out, and turns over.

 

“Here,” she offers, and feels cold fingers pluck the tissue from her grasp.

 

“Thank you.”

 

 

-

 

 

It’s a stupid idea, but stupid ideas have saved her life before, so who is she to say anything?

 

“Be careful, yeah?” she says, clapping Veera on the shoulder. Veera's wearing something Rachel might wear, and it strikes Sarah that she’s always the one doing the swapping, up until now. It’s bizarre to see.

 

And Veera smiles, the kind of smile Sarah wouldn’t want to be on the other end on. “I will.”

 

It’s a promise, and Sarah nods, hopes Felix’s place will still be in the same condition when they get back and Veera will be sitting at the kitchen table, stirring a spoon through her iced tea.

 

“Call if you need anything.”

 

 

-

 

 The call never comes, of course. 

 

Sarah pictures Veera finishing, tidying up, leaving no dirty work for her to come back to; Veera finding someplace to spend her millions; Veera's posture losing that hangdog wariness; Veera happy. 

 

The call never comes, but there's no blood, no threat from Rachel, and so she can only continue fighting and hope Veera's made it. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
